Never Been Kissed
by MissAnime111
Summary: "Mary Poppins, 'ave you ever bin in love?" He asked. Her fists clenched and she let her eyes flutter shut. No. Not this. Not now..." A regular Tuesday off with Bert raises some terribly awkward questions, and some long awaited confessions. Please Review!


**A/N: Okay, so this is my first MP fic. I really hope that I kept Mary and Bert in character, so please tell if I did/didn't.**

**I'd like to say thank you 'BroardwayStarlet' for agreeing to read my fic, as I will with all of yours, no doubt :)**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Mary Poppins. If I did this fic would be filmed and casted right away.**

They met on the rooftops, like they always did every Tuesday when Mary was in London. He was leaning lazily against the crumbling brickwork of a chimney top, the tattered red scarf flapping loosely with the wind.

He was always waiting there before her. It was probably something to do with her charges. They took up a lot of her time, even on her days off. But that was her job, and he respected that. Just as he respected everything else she did. She was the light in his life, the reason why he never left Cherry Street lane. She would always return here, to her home. Sometimes it took years, but he'd always wait for her, like a loyal dog after his owner. He waited for the day that she could stay for good. But for now he was content on spending with her as much time as he could when she was around.

He had been waiting for five minutes when she finally made an appearance. She floated gracefully onto the rooftop, the parrot umbrella and carpet bag in her white gloved hands. Setting herself down perfectly, he approached his best friend, a grin on his face.

"Well, well. If it ain't Mary Poppins!"

"It's nice to see you, Bert." She smiled at him, brushing imaginary dust of her coat. "I'm sorry about the delay."

"Them new kids causin' trouble?"

She stuck her nose in the air. "Felicity and George are doing fine. It's just taking a little more longer than usual. It's nothing I can't handle."

Bert smirked. She had so much self confidence. She was independent and certain, so sure of herself. She had always been like that; for as long as he could remember.

"So," he started, "wot ya want ta do t'day?" He moved over to take her bag and umbrella from her hands.

Her rosy red lips curled into a grin, those sapphire blue eyes sparkling. "Surprise me."

They spent the day roaming the streets of London, trying out all the cafe's the city had to offer. They walked in and out big fancy stores, never actually buying anything. They spent hours in the music shops, testing out violins and guitars and trumpets. The assistants looked kind of huffy at first, but changed their mind when Bert sat down at the piano near the door and played 'Fur Elise', a classic Beethoven piece. A small crowed gathered and when he finished there was actually a round of applause, and a few requests for more.

They moved on. Bert found a posh outfitters and had tied the ribbon of a purple wide rimmed bonnet round his neck and flaunted around the shop wearing it, posing exaggerated lady impressions and talking in a ridiculous posh accent. Mary just laughed and rolled her eyes.

"Oh, Bert. You are lightheaded!" She laughed, a gloved hand resting on her hip, as Bert waved crazily at rather grumpy looking old woman, who turned her nose up and walked away, muttering something about 'disrespectful commoners'. Then the manager spotted them and turfed them out onto the street, frowning and cursing under his breath.

Next they tracked down a little hat shop and they tried on endless wedding creations in pink and lemon and mauve, adorned with feathers and flowers and fussy bits of net. They posed in the mirrors, fluttering their lashes and blowing each other kisses, giggling.

"Just a bi' of 'igh spirits, Mary Poppins!" He said, taking Mary's arm after being thrown out of there too.

She laughed, tipping her head back a bit. "Ah, I see. I must say that manager did see different."

"Yer, well, that goes for no sense of 'umor."

"Hmm, precisely."

Bert looked up to the sky, clouds turning a ugly mottled grey, and grimaced. "Looks like a spot o' rain's on it's way, then."

Mary fished her tiny pocket-watch out of her coat, eyebrows furrowing as she read the time. "I should probably be getting back anyway."

The rain started then. It started slowly, just a few droplets falling every so often, like a warning. It wouldn't take long for it to build up into a heavy downfall, the residents of London disappearing from the drizzly streets, eager to get home and dry. The rain in London was cold and piercing; icy rods that sting your skin and send shivers down your spine when they hit.

Yet through all the drizzle a couple ran, hand in hand, through the park, dodging puddles and laughing. They found a glass-walled gazebo to shield from the downpour, and collapsed onto a bench, water dripping from their clothes and skin.

"Well, so much for me making the sun shine bright." Mary sniffed, peeling off a white glove and wringing the water out.

Bert chuckled, staring at his dripping wet hat in his hands. "When your 'around, the suns always out in me eyes," he said honestly, and then froze. Behind them the thunder struck. He wasn't meant to say that. It was too intimate, too personal. He looked at her sideways, she was smiling at him. Leaning over, she patted him on the arm gently.

"That's sweet, Bert."

He sighed a silent sigh of relief, and pulled the hat back over his short unruly waves. He couldn't press his advantage. He already had the privilege to call Mary Poppins his best friend, and he didn't want to ruin it. But he didn't know how he could keep his feelings for her inside any longer. He decided the best thing to do was to change the subject as another crack of thunder rung out around them.

"I've sin the Banks kids around, they're doing well from what I see. That old Mr Banks has never really been the same since you left," He grinned at her, "In a good way."

"Do they still talk to you?" Mary asked.

"Oh I get the odd 'ell. Sometimes when I'm paintin' they throw in a copper or two, y'know. They're growing up fast, the little tykes." He smiled to himself, remembering perhaps Mary Poppin's favorite charges. Mary's smile faltered, and he sensed her disappointment.

"What is it Mary?"

He knew exactly what was wrong. It happens to all of Mary's charges. Every last one of them forgets her after a while. They don't need her anymore, they carry on with their lives, those memories containing magic and fun and Mary Poppins slowly fading away into nothing. It would be much easier to accept this fate if she didn't love them, but the truth was that Mary loved every single one of her charges. Though she would never admit it, Bert could see right through her. He notices the pain in her eyes when she leaves those children, and he sees straight through the brave mask she puts on as she watches each one of them forget her and their adventures together.

Bert wrapped a hand over her small gloved one, still cold and wet from the rain. "You still love 'em don't you?" Another crash of thunder. "I know I still do." He added quietly.

Mary looked up at him, sapphire eyes wide, "And what would happen to me if I loved every single one of my charges?" She whispered, squeezing his hand gently. Her face was wet, but she was sure that it was from the rain earlier. Her face was burning too, but it defiantly wasn't because the way this man was staring at her, the way his face suddenly seemed so close to her's all of a sudden.

Bert lifted his hands up to cradle her face gently. He stroked away the fresh tears that were starting to spill down her ruby cheeks with his thumb, and smiled faintly.

"Ya wouldn't look so lost as ya do now, my dear."

She shut her eyes tightly, bit her lip and told him firmly, "I'm not lost."

He didn't answer but she could still feel his breath on her cheeks and her pulse quickened. For once she was way out of her league and she didn't like it. "Bert, please... I don't think..."

Bert suddenly woke out of his daze, letting go of her head and scooting away, eyes wide. His cheeks were burning and he cursed himself for getting so close. He wouldn't look at her, and instead fixed his gaze on the far end of the gazebo, tracing the pattens on the glass with his eyes.

"I... I'm so sorry, Mary. I, uh, dunno know what came over me..."

Mary looked away too, folding her arms around her body. It was getting cold now, the night air wrapping itself round the pair, like a snake coiled around it's prey. She shivered and bit her lip so hard that she could taste blood. She should have never allowed herself to open up like that in front of Bert. She panicked. It was something she'd never experienced before, something even her magic had no control over. It was infuriating and yet at the same time intoxicating.

She didn't answer him, her voice had somewhat deserted her. She felt so small and scared that she could hardly recognize herself as the powerful Mary Poppins she was just half an hour ago. She didn't like the way this man could make her feel so many emotions that she could be reduced to nothing more than a sniveling child at his feet. She swore to herself years ago that she would never feel such human emotion; she couldn't, not with the job she had. She had her charges, her confidence, and her magic - she didn't need anything else. Suddenly they didn't quite seem enough.

"Bert, I... It's okay, really. Don't be embarrassed, please." She lent over again, taking his hand in hers. She felt him freeze at her touch.

"No, I crossed boundaries; made ya feel 'uncomfortable... for 'at I'm sorry." It was difficult for him to speak like this. His life had never needed any sadness or upset since she entered his life, he'd forgotten how to deal with such emotions. His stuttering was nothing more than the result of being unfamiliar with the feeling, he was sure.

Yet he didn't look at her. He dared not look into those bright blue orbs which he got so utterly lost in. Though he couldn't help close his fingers around her small hand and return her slight affection.

"Well," She spoke, struggling to regain her natural posture, "It was hardy the crime of the century, now was it?"

Bert was silent for while, and when he finally turned to face her he was grinning steadily; the fear and embarrassment in his eyes had vanished without trace. He straightened, clearing his throat. Noting that the rain outside had stopped he stood and pulled her up with him, never letting her hand go.

Just change the subject, he thought, it always works.

"Ah... suppose not... Well, ah must say it's been a jolly good day t'day, Mary. I'd like to thank ya for ya acquaintance. Now, your 'highness, do I at least 'ave the honor to show me 'appreciations for such a wonderful day, then - in a gentleman's manner, mind?"

Mary laughed, pleased to have her old friend back to normal. It made the situation much less awkward too, which she was deeply thankful of. "Well, I suppose if you must, you must."

He chuckled and brought her knuckles up to brush his lips lightly. He looked up and she was sure that he winked at her.

"It was my pleasure, Mary Poppins."

Almost uncontrollably a hot, red blush stained across her cheeks again, and her stomach did a double somersault before she could stop it. Flustered; she rolled her eyes, took his arm, and let him lead her back across the park. The ground was muddy and wet now, their shoes squelched against the damp pavement as they walked.

Bert looked down at their hands entwined between them, and back up to search her face. Mary was his best friend, undoubtedly, and yet he knew nothing about her. He didn't know about her background, her family, or her likes and her dislikes. Then again, she didn't know a great deal about him either. It was a funny sort of relationship. The kind that enjoys fun and laughter; the kind that needs to be dancing and singing and smiling all the time because it chases away the bad stuff when times are tough. It's the kind that doesn't deal with sadness and tears and deep, serious talks. Mary knew this, and decided it was for the best. She was practically perfect, after all. Practically perfect people are never sad. Well, at least that was what she had always believed.

She was staring off into the distance, but was very aware of Bert staring at her. She didn't know if she was at all comfortable with this sudden change in their relationship. But she didn't _dislike_ it. She did dislike, however, the fact that she was allowing sentiment to muddle her thinking. As far as she was concerned she never did that. Ever.

There was no more conversation between the two until they arrived at number 45, Cherry street lane; Mary's new charges' house.

"Well Bert, thank you for such a wonderful day, but I'm afraid I must bid you goodnight."

She looked at him steadily, and smiled. He nodded and stepped back, letting her pass so she could unlock the front gate. What was he doing? He didn't want this. Not when he was finally so sure of his feelings for this woman. He couldn't let her go, he couldn't let her just walk out of his life whenever she pleased without her knowing. He took a step forward.

"Mary?" He started. She didn't turn to him but he knew that she was listening. "Mary Poppins, 'ave you ever bin in love?"

She stopped moving but dared not turn around. Her fists clenched and she let her eyes flutter shut. No. Not this. Not now...

"Bert, I'll thank you for not asking such ridiculous questions." She bit out, heart pounding. "I can assure you that I have never been in love, nor do I intend to ever be." She wanted so badly to believe what she was saying. She was startled by a warm hand on her shoulder, and turned around to face Bert smirking at her.

"That's a lie." He spoke, blue eyes laughing.

"I never lie," Mary turned her nose up at him, "I am telling the truth. I've never gotten involved with the idea of romance, and a job like mine has no time or space for love anyway. Practically Perfect people never allow sentiment to muddle their thinking. With that, Bert, I am sure."

"Ah, but practically perfect is not perfect." He pointed out, and she rolled her eyes and looked away. He chuckled. "Okay, so you've never bin in love." He sniffed snobbishly and rocked on his heels. "Can't say I've ever bin in love either, come ta 'fink about it."

She knew he was lying. It was something he did when he wanted to make her feel bad or jealous. She would never show it, but inside it always worked.

"Then I think we understand each other then, don't we?" She kept her expression one of indifference, folded her arms and tapped her foot slightly. Two can play this game, she thought. He didn't say anything, so she huffed and bent to pick up her bag and umbrella.

"So if you 'ave never bin in love," He started suddenly and made her drop her belongings, "that means that you've never bin kissed, right?"

Her eye's flashed, and she straightened to her full height, shooting him a look of warning. Bert knew that he'd hit a nerve, but he couldn't stop; not yet.

"Mary, 'ave you ever bin kissed?" He repeated, quiet amused at the way Mary tried to fix her gaze on anything except his face.

She stared at him, mouth opening and closing. For once she was speechless. He must know what he was doing to her, how could he not? It was pure torture and yet he just stood there, a cheeky grin pulling at his lips. Not that she was looking at them. Her mouth felt dry and she suddenly felt a lot less perfect than she should. It was that feeling all over again, the same one from that incident in the gazebo. The one were her ears burned and her cheeks coloured and she suddenly felt the urgent need to sit.

"Yes," She surprised herself by saying, "I have. Many times, actually."

This time Bert couldn't suppress a grin from surfacing, "Oh, I see. A nanny who 'as never bin in love but 'as most defiantly bin kissed?"

She nodded firmly and tried to turn away, but he stopped her by placing a finger and thumb under her chin, tilting her head up slowly to face his.

"_Bert._" She warned sternly, although this time she made no attempt to move.

"Mary Poppins," His face was serious. "Ave you ever really, with your whole heart, bin in love?"

Her sapphire blue eyes widened as he moved closer, and there it was again. That warm, scary feeling that made all her thoughts turn to mush and her knees go weak. She knew her cheeks had turned an ever brighter shade of red than they should be, and her skin burned were Bert's fingers held her under her chin. She felt like a silly, love-struck teenager. After all these years, she never thought she'd feel like _that_ again.

"I... I don't know." She whispered.

Bert smiled warmly, "Can't say I agree wiv ya."

"Why?"

"Even practically perfect people can tell a lie. But only sometimes."

Mary frowned up at him, "And how would you know?"

He pulled her face closer so the tip of his nose rested against her's. A sharp out take of breath rose from her throat, and her eye lids fluttered shut. The feeling was stronger than ever now; her whole face was on fire and if felt like the only thing that was keeping her from falling was Bert's supporting hand. She could feel him smiling faintly.

"Cause I lie all the time."

Mary snorted and opened her eyes, "Well, that's an understatement." She struggled to stop her gaze from sliding from his eyes to his lips. Or at least tried not to make it too obvious.

He chucked and brought another hand up to caress her face gently. She was so beautiful to him, he just couldn't hide it any longer. It was time he told her everything. But first one more thing...

Before she could protest, he had moved in to capture her lips with his. It was so small and fast that Mary's eyes opened in surprise, but they soon slid shut as Bert wound his arms arms around her waist and deepened the kiss. Her own hands reached for his shoulders and neck, her fingers raked through his hair, knocking his cap off onto the floor.

The feeling of his lips on hers was all Mary needed to realise her feelings for this man. It was inevitable, inescapable, and for a moment she forgot about her magic; her charges, her duties of being a nanny. She forgot about having to be faultless and being _practically perfect_, because none of that mattered now. All that mattered to her was this lonely chimney sweep who she was falling so deeply in love with. The way his lips caressed hers drove her pulse over the edge, and for once she actually felt normal. Whatever anyone says, Mary Poppins was a human being and she needed to be loved just like she needed food and water. She never knew how much she needed it until that moment.

It was Bert who finally broke the kiss, and they stood silent for while, breathing heavily and trying to catch their breath. It was time to come out with it if he was ever going to let her know how much he wanted her with him.

"Mary, I'm not going to lie to you now." He started, cradling her pretty face in his hands, urging her to open her eyes and look at him. "I've waited here for years - waiting for you - waiting for the right time to tell ya that... I love you."

Mary's eyes widened. "Bert, I..."

"Please Mary, I love you so much. I love ya like the earth loves the moon, like a bee loves honey, like a flower loves the sun. And you... Mary, you are the sun to me."

She was speechless now, well and truly. It was just so... so romantic. She didn't know what she had done to deserve such affection. Did she love him? Of course she did, who wouldn't? He was sweet and funny and caring and kind. He was everything she ever wanted, she knew that now.

But who has time for love when you have a job, a responsibility, like Mary Poppins?

She stared up at the man she knew she loved, and smiled faintly. " Then I think we understand each other then, don't we?" Her voice was cracking slightly, as she confessed. "I do love you, Bert. I know that now, more than anything."

He tried not to give in to the sudden urge to laugh out loud, pick her up and swing her around in joy. He settled with a smile instead. He would have liked nothing more to just hold this woman for ever and never let go, but she was moving away from his arms. She bent down to retrieve her bag and umbrella once more, and smiled warmly at him.

"So, what 'appens now?" He stuffed his hands in his pockets and rocked on his heels.

Mary's face fell, "I don't know, Bert. I just don't know what's going to happen. You see, with a job like mine... I -"

"- Don't 'ave the time or space for love." He spoke, eyes downcast, "I understand, really. It's just... well, at least we know were we stand, right?"

Mary smiled. She knew they would be just fine, for now anyway. She leaned in and placed a soft kiss on his lips, then pushed the gate open and walked to the front door, looking back to see Bert grinning up at her. She smiled back before fishing the front door key out of her pocket and letting herself in the house, closing the door softly.

They both looked forward to all their adventures that were to come.

**So, what do ya think? Please please review! Please! Yeah? Thanks eva so much :) Have a nice day.**


End file.
